


Together

by kayura_sanada



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Worthy, only slash if you squint, slight hand fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: Steve and Tony can lift Mjolnir if they work together. Inspired by theapplepielifestyle's tumblr post.





	

Their fingers touched.

Despite the din, the crowd, the watchful eyes, even the rough, leather grip beneath his palm, the first thing he really noticed was how their fingers touched. His middle finger brushed against the side of Steve's palm as the super soldier moved to grip the handle alongside Tony. Compared to the coolness of the cloth-wrapped metal, Steve's skin was like a banked furnace. The heat shivered up his wrist into his arm, nearly making it shake. Then Steve's fingers splayed ever so gently against the back of his hand, urging his grip forward so Steve could hold the back firmly. He looked to their spectators, Natasha leaning forward in her seat, lips pursed, Clint elbowing Bruce in the side and gesturing to them. Placing a bet. Thor leaned casually back on the sofa, fingers tapping an unruly beat on the armrest.

Tony held fast, feeling foolish without his armor on – Clint's stipulation. The skin of his palm almost hurt against the coarse fabric lining the handle. Already, he could feel the heavy weight of the thing in his hand. Already he could tell how the grip would pull taut against his skin as he pulled, how the rough bite of the leather would tear at him, leave his palm red and throbbing.

“Ready?” he asked, though he didn't turn his head from his task. He could feel the heat of Steve's palm just beneath his, knew the line of Steve's arm nearly met his at the wrist. “On the count of three.” He could feel the very air around Steve tense in anticipation. While Tony's own hand seemed to struggle with the grip beneath it, even with the oils of his skin and the sweat from his nerves helping him keep hold, Steve's seemed fine. Likely from gripping his shield; Steve's palm likely held calluses from its own labors, just as Tony's were a patchwork of tiny white scars. Despite the constant use of the shield, however, Steve's fingers, just above Tony's own, were smooth, clear of scars or calluses. Probably because he often wore gloves.

“One,” he said, his gaze trapped on the low cut of nails over pink skin. “Two. Three.”

He pulled hard, nearly toppling backward at the light weight of the hammer in his hand. Their hands. His gaze raised, caught on Steve's wide blue eyes. Thor leaned forward so fast the sofa rocked beneath him. Natasha crowed in triumph.

Tony's breath left him in a rush. “Holy shit,” he breathed, and watched Steve wordlessly mouth the same.

“Wow, Tony,” Bruce said. “Language.”

 


End file.
